My Saving Grace
by AlexisVeronica
Summary: A darker more cynical Harry arrives at Hogwarts for his last year. Can anyone take him out of his dark depressed thoughts or will they push him deeper into the dark arts?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, that means I don't own it…. Even though I probably wish I did. Warnings: a little bit of Dark cynical brooding Harry, but that never hurt anyone, did it? Oh, and for all Hermione and Ron fans out there, I don't hate them, it just so happens that their attitudes and Harry's attitude towards them fit better with my story. Swearing and eventual slash, D/H

Just to let you know, if you dislike this story and you flame it, I won't reply to you, but otherwise, all reviews are welcome an suggestions taken into consideration.

A raven haired boy sat on his windowsill, looking out into the night sky. The moon shone down onto his dark features and illuminated his emerald green eyes.

"Another summer where I am forgotten. Another birthday gone and, yet again, I have nothing to show for it." Seventeen year old Harry Potter sighed aloud and threw the book that he had been reading across the room.

Unfortunately, the book hit his mirror and the mirror crashed to the floor, breaking into at least 20 different sized pieces.

"Shit." Harry sat for a moment, running his hands through his hair, then got up and walked across the room to pick up the broken object that had once been a mirror.

Harry had decidedly changed since his fifth year, after Sirius had disappeared through the Veil.

His attitude towards everyone had become cold, bitter, and cynical. He was harsh and angry and lonely, but no one seemed to blame him. He began to see that people were using him, and he gained a calculated harshness towards others. Another thing that Harry had gained from his experiences was not to be too trusting. And he wasn't.

Harry's attitude was not the only thing that had changed. His physical appearance had changed as well. Gone were the days of tender awkwardness and pre-pubescence. Now, Harry stood at 6'1" and had a lithe, muscular build (from Quidditch, no doubt.) He no longer wore glasses, nor did he wear Dudley's hand-me-downs. Harry had found his own sense of style, once he had procured enough courage to finally tell off the Dursley's. They immediately left Harry to his own devices, preferring to stay alive rather than die at the hands of an angry 17 year old wizarding saviour.

Harry preferred to wear tighter jeans, tee's, and hoodies, going for the darker colors like many of today's teens. His style would have been most likely considered punk/emo, but Harry preferred to think of those things as a state of mind and not a state of clothing. The boy had also grown his hair out so that it would cover his hated scar. He had finally gained more freedom, and in a celebration of sorts, had gotten his tongue pierced, but for most of the time, he didn't feel any freer than he had been for the past 16 years.

Hedwig hooted softly, flying from her perch to help Harry clean up the mess that he had made.

"Hedwig, I think that you are the only one that I can trust," the teenager told her, standing up and holding out his arm. Hedwig flew to Harry, giving him a look, as if to say, "I understand." Harry absent-mindedly stroked his owl's soft plumage and looked around the small confines of his room.

"One more year at Hogwarts. Only one more year and then I am free to leave everyone and everything, all of the horrible memories, behind," he said out loud, but it was only to reassure himself that he truly would be free.

The summer holidays had gone by excruciatingly slow for Harry, as well as for the Dursley's. His so called 'family' couldn't wait to get rid of the boy that had endangered the peacefulness and normalcy of their lives, and Harry couldn't wait to leave the hellhole of a 'home' that he had been forced to live in. With nothing to do and no where to go, he had amused himself by walking into town and buying all sorts of assorted items; clothing, music, a cellular phone. He had decided to try his hand at playing the guitar, for lack of nothing better to do, and had found that he loved it and really wasn't all that bad.

The end of summer found Harry sitting in a brand new black Audi in the parking lot of the train station. Harry had passed his Muggle driving exam, though how he had done it would remain a mystery to him, because the Dursley's would never let him drive their precious car. Hedwig sat in the passenger seat in her cage, hooting softly, reassuring Harry that he would be fine and that everything would be okay.

Not once during the holidays had Harry received a greeting or a letter from anyone. The only letter he had received was his Hogwarts letter, and he wasn't about to run to his friends like nothing had changed.

"They're too fucking preoccupied with everything else to even think about me or what I've been going through," Harry growled over the music. He took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car. He opened the back doors and pulled out his trunk, which he had put a bottomless spell on so that it would hold everything that he owned. Now being of age in the wizarding world, he was allowed to do magic outside of school. Looking around quickly, he took Hedwig out of the car and shrank it down to about the size of a toy model car.

"Come on Hedwig, let's get on the train," and with that said, he shouldered his trunk, grabbed Hedwig's cage, and walked towards the entrance to the station.

"Do you see him yet?" asked an anxious redhead.

"No Ronald, I don't see him yet, but I can't wait to," Hermione answered, her face lit up with happiness. Ron and Hermione stood for a few more moments, looking through the throng of people, until they spotted Harry.

"Oh my, he's changed so much. And he doesn't look very happy to see us," Hermione stated. But Ron wasn't paying any attention to her and her little speech.

"Harry mate, how have you been?" he yelled, running up to his old friend.

Harry put his trunk down and stood to his full height, one which could now rival Ron's. "Well, I've been alright, but you would have known that had you written to me!" he spat out, getting angry and balling his fists up at his sides.

Hermione walked over, a tentative smile on her face. "Harry, the Order, they told us not to write you, just in case someone intercepted the letters," she started to say, but Harry didn't let her finish.

"Oh Hermione, don't you see? You're so smart, but you never once actually saw me for who I truly was. You see me as your best friend, as a hero, as someone brave and good. You're looking, but you're not actually seeing. And Ron, how can you act as though nothing has changed between us? Not everything is as happy and innocent as it was in first year; not everything is just black and white, written there for all to read, as plain as day. If you were truly there for me, you would have written, regardless of what the Order, or Dumbledore, said. I must have wasted pointless hours writing to the both of you and not once did I get any indication that either of you had received my letters. Not once did I receive any indication that either of you really cared. So fuck the Order, fuck Dumbledore, fuck Voldemort, but most of all, fuck you. Thanks for not being there."

Harry picked up his trunk and moved onto the train, leaving Hermione and Ron dumfounded where they stood.

Now, not only had everyone on the platform heard Harry's speech, but the little scene had been witnessed by non other than the Prince of Slytherin himself, Draco Malfoy. "Well, now this is all rather interesting," Draco noted to himself as he watched The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Fucking-Die speak calmly, yet in a deadly voice, at the Red head and the Mudblood. He watched as Harry stormed onto the train and followed, his mind already perfecting a plan.

So, I would love to know what you think. Leave a review!

Dreamer110


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, that means I don't own it…. Even though I probably wish I did. Warnings: a little bit of Dark cynical brooding Harry, but that never hurt anyone, did it? Oh, and for all Hermione and Ron fans out there, I don't hate them, it just so happens that their attitudes and Harry's attitude towards them fit better with my story. Swearing and eventual slash, D/H

Thank you to my reviewers: AJ586 and Chailyn Cole Runewood

I will also appreciate any other feedback… but no flames will be acknowledged!

Chapter 2

"The nerve of those two! I can't believe that they would think me unaltered after all of the things that have happened to me these past years. Did you see how they tried to act like everything was alright between us, Hedwig?" Harry complained, slamming his trunk onto the storage cabinet above the seats in his compartment. "I tried to stay calm, level-headed, but sometimes those two can be unbearable and stupid as fuck, Hedwig."

He decided that the best way to calm down was with some music; some of his own original music. He was just settling himself down with his guitar when someone knocked on the door and quickly came in without waiting for an answer. Harry looked up at the intruder and saw a tall, lithe blonde staring him in the face.

"Malfoy," he managed to say without stuttering. Draco's presence had affected him quite well. The boy in front of him had never looked better.

Malfoy's build was much like Harry's, but he was thinner, leaner. His facial features had become more refined, and his eyes were silver in color, not gray, but silver. Draco had flawless skin and his hair was long, no longer held back with gel, but now free flowing and it glowed in the sunlight.

"Potter," Draco said, his aristocratic voice carrying through the air. "I couldn't help but notice that the Three Musketeers have now become only two. Why did you leave them?"

"Look Malfoy, I don't owe you, or anyone else for that matter, an explanation as to why I reacted to them in the way that I did."

Draco smirked; he had been expecting an answer like that, and his comeback was just as good as his opening statement. "No, you don't. I think that I have the reasons already figured out. Let me tell you what I think," he said, sitting down on one of the plush red seats across from Harry, who was looking uninterested in what Malfoy had to say, and was, instead, tuning his instrument.

The blonde continued, though not unnerved by Harry's reaction. "You don't trust them. Everything that you have ever known you've begun to second guess. Your friends, your mentors. No one seems to be giving you any answers. You're asking yourself why you are in Gryffindor, is your allegiance with the right people. But that's just what I think. Please, correct me if I'm wrong."

Draco stopped talking to look at Harry, who was now listening in earnest, his guitar laying forgotten at his side.

"How do you know all that Malfoy?" he asked, looking at the person who had been an enemy for the past 6 years.

"I'm not as heartless as you may think I am, Potter. I can observe, and that's what I saw. I saw the pain in your eyes, Harry, and I know that pain. It's one that I've felt for a long time myself, and I have a deal to cut with you. You and I, we're equals, Harry. We could make a wonderful team, you and I working together. I don't stand for everything dark, like you may believe, but I do know certain ways to get what I want. We can help each other," Draco finished and he gracefully stood up, offering his pale hand to the Gryffindor.

Harry looked into Draco's eyes and saw truth. He knew that Draco would never lie to him like the others because he never had. Malfoy had never failed to tell Harry exactly what he really thought, not once. He took Malfoy's hand and shook it, a small smirk playing about his lips.

"This may just be the start of a wonderful friendship Draco," he said as he let go of the other boy's pale, thin hand.

Draco put his head back slightly and laughed. "My, I do like your new attitude, Harry. This is quite an improvement from the sniveling Gryffindor first year you once were.

Harry shot his eyebrows up, surprised by Malfoy's comment, and began to play with his tongue ring. He thought for a moment before responding. "I like the way I am better as well," he answered, sitting down and picking up his guitar.

------------- After the train ride, Harry and Draco went their separate ways, Draco with Blaise and the rest of the seventh year Slytherins, and Harry alone. Harry finally found an empty carriage at the very end of the line, and he sat down, Hedwig beside him

"Did I make the right decision, Hedwig? Do you think that I can trust Malfoy?" he asked his faithful friend, pet, and companion.

Hedwig just blinked at him and flapped her snowy white wings.

"He's the only one who has ever told me the whole truth. Besides you, I think that he may be the only one that I can truly trust."

Harry's owl just turned in her cage and hooted softly.

"Well, fuck Hedwig, I don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing!" Harry yelled as the carriage lurched to a stop.

The night was warm and beautiful, and as Harry joined the rest of the students walking up to the doors he thought, "Even the fucking weather is out to spite me!"

The students arrived in the Great hall and broke off into their groups of friends, talking and laughing with one another. Harry decided that he was better off standing in a corner, alone, looking cynical and brooding.

"Mr. Potter," said a voice. Harry looked up to see Professor Severus Snape standing before him.

"Professor, what can I do for you?" Harry asked, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially a teacher who had a not so hidden agenda against him.

"Mr. Potter, the headmaster wishes to see you in his office before the Sorting Ceremony. I have been chosen to accompany you there, and believe me you, I'm about as happy about this as you seem to be," Snape told the dark haired boy, noting that something had changed about him.

"Oh joy, it's a friggin party and I'm so thrilled," Harry mumbled as he followed Snape out of the Great Hall and through the halls to the stone phoenix that happened to be the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Cracker jacks," hissed Severus, and the statue gave way to let Harry and the professor through. The two men rode the staircase in silence, each pondering different things, until they got to the door of the Headmaster's quarters.

"Ah, Harry, Severus, come in," the Headmaster said after Snape had knocked on the wooden door. "Please Harry, sit down," he told the boy, a small smile playing on his lips.

Harry frowned and crossed his arms. He played with his tongue ring before saying, "I'd rather stand."

Albus Dumbledore tilted his head, his smile faltering for a few seconds, before returning to place. "Very well. I have been informed that you refuse to speak to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Might I ask you; what is the reasoning behind this?"

Harry's eyes immediately hardened. "She told you, didn't she?" was all that he would say.

"If you are referring to Ms. Granger, then yes, she did. They are concerned, Harry," the Headmaster told him.

"Oh bullshit they're concerned! I don't fucking believe that for one second. If they cared, really cared, they wouldn't expect me to save the entire world. No one would!" Harry yelled, angry at everyone.

Professor Dumbledore was just about to answer the seething boy when something fell off of the top shelf of the bookcase. Everyone looked over to see the tattered old Sorting Hat lying on the floor.

------- Well, tell me what you think, because I would love to know. Thanks again to those who reviewed!

Dreamer110


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, that means I don't own it…. Even though I probably wish I did. Warnings: a little bit of Dark cynical brooding Harry, but that never hurt anyone, did it? Oh, and for all Hermione and Ron fans out there, I don't hate them, it just so happens that their attitudes and Harry's attitude towards them fit better with my story. Swearing and eventual slash, D/H

Thanks to my reviewers:

Time is a waste of life: Thanks for the great review; I'm glad you like my Harry.

methoslover: I like Harry too… here's the next chapter.

patr: You'll just have to read this chapter!

Bibilein: Perhaps you think it's going to fast, but I think that I have a point with Harry and Draco never lying to one another. Thanks for the review!

Lily Drake Delano pottermalfoy: Sorry to leave you hanging, but I'll give you the next chapter now!

SlaShPixiE3: My darling, be patient… And I was bored one day.

Neant; I'm glad that you like this story… and my Harry. I would love for you to draw a picture of him… I love that kind of stuff. Here's your chapter!

Unknown-Dreams (for 1 and 2): Yes, Dark!Harry is good, and he does get angry, but he has a softer side too!

And that's it folks… Well, at least for the thank- you's… Now on to My Saving Grace: Chapter 3.

"What the hell?" Harry whispered. He walked over to pick up the old hat, but once he had touched it, he had a most pressing, sudden urge to put it on. As soon as he placed the hat on his head, it started to talk to him.

"Ah, a change in heart, I see. You've changed, Mr. Potter, so much from when you first came here to Hogwarts for your first year. You believed that everything was going to be alright, didn't you?" the hat wheezed.

Harry scowled. "I was stupid and naïve, okay? You can't blame me for that," he thought.

"Well, perhaps I can manage to change all of that. I can get you great allies, Harry Potter, better than just friends. They will be loyal to you, and accept your new thoughts and feelings. Perhaps Slytherin is the best place for you."

"Perhaps you're right, although, I don't know what I'm doing, talking to a hat," Harry sarcastically replied.

The Sorting Hat sort of chuckled and replied by softly saying, in an authoritative voice, "There shall be a re-sorting."

Dumbledore and Snape were shocked, to say the very least, but they seemed to accept the fact that this was happening whether they wanted it to or not. They watched, semi-dumbfounded as the Sorting Hat continued on in the way it had been told to, in the event of a re-sorting.

"Due to certain circumstances, this student shall be re-sorted into another house. Slytherin is now the best house for this young man to be in," the hat finished with his speech and sat still, seemingly done with Harry.

Harry just stood rooted to the floor, staring at a small stain on the Headmaster's rug. He couldn't believe that he was no longer a Gryffindor. Slowly and carefully, he removed the hat from his head and placed it carefully on the desk in front of him. "Professor, I think that you'll need this for the Sorting Ceremony tonight," he said, his voice soft and slightly husky.

Xxxxxxx

A stunned potions master led an equally stunned ex-Gryffindor back down to the Great Hall, where everyone had already taken their seats and prepared for the Ceremony to commence.

"Potter. Since you are now in my house, I expect you to behave like a Slytherin. I know that you have changed, and I accept that, for times are different now, with the once again risen Dark Lord. Perhaps we could start anew, and not hate each other as much as before. I know now that you are not the same person as your father once was."

"I'm glad that you can finally see that after all of these years, Professor. I will behave accordingly, but might I ask one thing of you sir?" Harry answered, his hand brushing his robes.

"What is it Potter?"

"Could you change the crest on my robes sir? I could do it myself, but I thought that maybe I should let you do the honors."

Severus slowly smiled at Harry, and lifted his wand, muttering the spell. The crest on Harry's robes instantly changed from scarlet and gold lion to green and silver snake.

"Take a seat at the table, Mr. Potter," the teacher told his pupil.

Harry nodded, turning towards the table where all of the Slytherin's were seated. He saw Draco Malfoy, sitting with Blaise Zabini and a transfer student, Cooper Daynor. They were talking quietly and Draco paused to brush some stray hair out of his face.

"Harry, what are you doing? That's the Slytherin table," a voice said behind him. The raven haired boy turned around to find not Ron nor Hermione, but Neville Longbottom, another Gryffindor.

"Neville, I… Well, I'm no longer a Gryffindor. The Sorting Hart re-sorted me and well, it placed me into Slytherin. Neville, I hope that this doesn't effect our friendship; you've done nothing but respect me for who I am," Harry told him, wishing that he could say the same about others.

Neville frowned, his eyes downcast. "Well, I wish you the best Harry. This won't affect my feelings about you, but I just hope that it won't affect your feelings about me. If you want me to, I'll tell Ron and Hermione, because I know what happened at the train station." He leaned in closer and whispered the next part of his speech quietly. "I tried to send you a letter, but someone intercepted it. They should have tried as well."

Harry smiled and placed his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Thanks Neville, I appreciate this."

Neville smiled and nodded. "See you around, Potter," and he walked away, feeling satisfied to know that Harry still wanted to be his friend.

Harry turned around gracefully and went towards Draco, who had been observing the two.

Draco stood up, holding out his hand. "Welcome to Slytherin, Potter," he said, all traces of his former hate towards the other boy gone from his face and his beautiful silver eyes. The boys shook hands and sat down again, this time Harry and Draco on one side, Blaise and Cooper on the other.

"Severus told me what happened and I've informed the rest of the Slytherin's. They shall do their best to make you feel as welcome as possible, of that I can assure you," the blonde whispered into Harry's ear.

Harry simply nodded. Soon after this transgression, the new students streamed into the Great Hall, waiting for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. McGonagall stepped up to the Sorting Hat, looking rather frazzled.

"She must have been informed of the switch that was made," Harry thought, as he watched his former Head of House call names. The first child that was called up was placed into Gryffindor, and as Harry's eyes followed the child, they landed upon the sight of Hermione and Ron, who were glaring at him with hate and sadness, making him feel like a traitor to his former friends and family. Their scrutinizing glare caught up with him and he swiftly stood up and left the Great Hall, leaving everyone else baffled.

Draco watched Harry's actions with concern, and then slowly, he stood up and walked out right behind him, following him outside.

Xxxxxx

Outside, the sky had decided to pour its tears upon the earth, but the moon still shone brightly. Harry reached into his back pants pocket, pulling out a package of cigarettes. Putting one in his mouth, he lit it, and inhaled deeply.

"Didn't know that the Golden Boy smoked," Draco said quietly from behind him. The raven haired boy didn't say anything, but took another long drag off of his cigarette. "When did you start?" Draco wanted to know.

Harry shrugged. "Two, three years ago. It was when the Dursley's first let me wander around on my own during the summer holidays. I walked around town, looking for things to do. One day I happened to be sitting in the park and a man came and sat down next to me. I believe he asked me if I was lost, and when I said no, he offered me a fag. I took it, and I've been hooked ever since."

Draco smiled slightly and sat down on the ground next to Potter. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled out his own pack of cigarettes. They looked different than Harry's, but that was just because they were a wizarding brand and not a Muggle brand. "Yeah, I guess I started about four years ago. All of the pressure from my father and mother must have gotten to me, because one day, I just blew up. I stormed out of the Manor, and didn't go back for a few days. Of course, being the person that I am, I was attracted to the darker parts of Diagon Alley, namely Knockturn Alley. I met a few people there who introduced me to more than just smoking, let me tell you, but I decided it wasn't for me, so I went back to Father. Of course, I picked up on the smoking habit, but I just couldn't give it up… It's comforting."

Harry nodded. "Yes, it's, well, familiar, I guess," he said, stubbing out the butt. "Why don't we go back inside? It's starting to rain harder than before."

Both boys stood up and started to walk back inside, but their walk soon turned to a full out run when the sky really opened up and it started to pour. The rain fell on them in sheets, soaking them to the bone and making it harder to run up the steep hill. Unfortunately, Harry, who was a little behind Malfoy, lost his footing and fell. He grabbed onto Draco's leg by accident on the way down, and both of them fell into the mud, laughing.

"Well, we'd better not get caught by Filch on our way to the dungeons," Draco snickered. "He'll have our heads for dragging mud through his newly cleaned floors."

Harry laughed and nodded, getting up and helping Draco to his feet. Both boys slowly started to walk back to towards the castle, unaware of the strong bond that they had both just formed.

Well, I hope you liked this. I wanted Draco and Harry to share stories, and I thought that a good way to do that was to have them tell how they first started smoking. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, that means I don't own it…. Even though I probably wish I did. Warnings: a little bit of Dark cynical brooding Harry, but that never hurt anyone, did it? Oh, and for all Hermione and Ron fans out there, I don't hate them, it just so happens that their attitudes and Harry's attitude towards them fit better with my story. Swearing and eventual slash, D/H

+ The lyrics used in this chapter are from Jamie Cullum's 'Twentysomething' I don't own these either… I just think that they're cool.+

Thank you to all of the lovely people who decided to read and review my story: Your suggestions and comments mean the world to me!

blackiebrens

Dragonero

Neant

me

darkmoon56

Now, I bring you the fourth chapter of My Saving Grace.

XXXXXXXX

Harry and Draco stood underneath the stone awning of the doorway and watched the rain fall down around them in torrents. Harry turned to look at the other boy, whose attention was still focused on the rain.

Draco's hair was sopping wet and hung in his face. Little rivulets of water traveled down pale cheeks and his lips were bright red from the cold. A pale graceful hand wiped the hair away from his face and he turned his head to face Harry.

"Is there something on my face?" Draco questioned, for the dark haired boy was still staring at him.

Harry was startled and stammered, "Uh, yes, there's a little piece of grass on your cheek." He pointed to a spot on his face, telling Draco where the imaginary piece of grass was.

Draco once again swiped his hand across his face. "Did I get it?"

Slowly, Harry shook his head, replying, "No, I, I'll get it." His work-calloused tanned hand stretched across and lightly brushed against the other boy's cheek, removing the piece of grass that was never there to begin with. "There, it's gone," he told the blonde.

Draco looked up and smiled, not his usual smirk, but an actual smile. "Thanks Harry. I guess that we had better get inside before we get caught for being out too late." He turned to face the door and slowly pulled it open, ducking his head inside. He waved his hand to Harry, signaling him to come forward. "Come on, let's go before Filch decides to show up," Draco whispered.

As Harry and Draco ran through the halls, stopping every few moments to listen for any unusual sounds or footsteps, Harry reflected upon the time he had spent with his former enemy thus far.

"He's a good person inside. I always thought that he had a heart of stone, and no soul, but I guess I was wrong," he thought to himself. Quite suddenly, he ran into something soft and warm, though the impact was hard.

"Ow, shit! Harry, watch where you're going, you're going to kill someone, and it will most likely be me, since I'm the only one around," Draco whispered loudly. He had stopped to look around a corner and with the way that Harry was thinking, he had run right into Draco.

"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly, upset with himself for getting so lost in his thoughts to not pay attention to what was going on around him. Suddenly, a light shown down at the other end of the corridor, and a cat silhouette could be seen.

"Why is the floor wet, my pretty?" Filch asked his cat, Mrs. Norris. Mrs. Norris meowed in reply and Harry and Draco stood, frozen to the spot that they were standing in. Draco came to his senses first, because he put his hand on Harry's arm and began to make a mad dash for the dungeons, pulling Harry along behind him.

Harry had reacted when Draco began to pull him along, thought the reaction wasn't quite what he wanted to happen. With Draco trying to drag Harry behind him, and Harry trying to run forward at the same time, the reaction was that Harry tripped over his own feet, and for the second time that night, he sent both himself and the blonde careening towards the floor.

They landed with a loud crash and Draco cursed as Harry landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him.

"Potter, get off! Get up, we have to go," he said, his voice slightly higher than usual. Harry scrambled up and helped the other boy off of the floor. They both broke out into a full blown run, not caring whether their footsteps could be heard or not. Filch was in hot pursuit, until Draco skidded to a halt in front of a large tapestry with a green snake embroidered on it.

"Mortalitas," Draco said, and the tapestry moved aside, showing a wooden door that immediately swung open. Draco and Harry ran inside, and the door shut with a resounding slam, signifying the end of the escape and chase. Draco collapsed onto the floor, his arms and legs splayed in every direction.

XXXXXXXXXX

"That was too fucking close for my liking," he said, smirking a bit. Harry smiled down at his companion and put out a hand to help the other up. Draco graciously accepted it and led Harry over to a large leather couch in front of a large fireplace with a fire still blazing in the grate.

Harry took in his surroundings as he paused to catch his breath. Three fireplaces and a copious amount of candelabras lit up the Slytherin common room. Green and black chairs were strewn about the room, though not in a haphazard way, such as in the case of the Gryffindor common room. Beautiful wooden tables were placed at various intervals here and there, some with inlaid chess boards, some with intricate designs. A grand piano stood in one corner of the room next to a small fireplace; it had been a donation from Draco's father. Harry also noticed a large cabinet stocked with liquor.

"I didn't know that we were allowed to have liquor on school premises," he said to Draco, who had his head resting on the back of the sofa, his eyes closed.

"We're not," Malfoy said in way of a reply. "But Slytherin's always have a way of bending, if not breaking, the rules, and we also have the ability to not get caught. The cabinet immediately vanishes if a teacher comes within twenty meters of the tapestry outside. Actually, a drink sounds nice… something to warm us up. What do you want Harry?" Draco asked as he got up from the couch and walked over to the liquor cabinet.

Harry thought for a moment. "Do you have any Muggle alcohol, or is it all Wizarding brands?" he asked.

Draco smiled. "We have both… Personally, I'm partial to scotch."

"I'll have a scotch as well," the dark haired boy said as he stood up and walked over to the piano. Draco poured the drinks into two crystal glasses, putting ice into one of them. He then shut the cabinet door and walked over to Harry, who had taken a seat on the piano bench and was reading the sheet music.

"Do you play?" Draco asked.

The other boy shook his head. "No, I'm just a fan. I can read music, but I don't know how to play the piano; I never had the opportunity to learn, living with the Dursley's," Harry said.

Draco turned to him, one eyebrow raised and a questioning look in his eyes.

"They were the Muggles that I lived with, but after this year, I won't go back to them. They never let me be, well, me, and I have to get away from that environment before I go and do something idiotic, like try to kill myself or something," Harry explained.

"Ahhhh, the evil family. Yes, well, I know what you mean. My father wants me to be exactly like him, and half the time, I think that my mother doesn't even know that I exist," said Draco as he placed his hands on the keys of the piano. He played the first few chords of a classical piece, than launched into a jazzy number, totally ignoring the sheet music on the stand.

"Come on Harry, I know that you want to get into this… Sing something!" Draco said over the music, which was getting louder as he played on.

Soon, a few sleepy figures meandered down the stairs to see what was going on, and to see who was making all of the noise. With Blaise and Cooper among them, soon a small crowd had gathered.

"Sing Harry… I know you want to," taunted the blonde. Harry blushed, refusing, but soon other voices joined in to persuade him.

Finally, Harry caved. "Alright, alright, let me think for a moment!" he yelled above the requests. He paused, his chin in his hands. Suddenly, he stood up and began to sing.

"Maybe I'll move back home and pay off my loans  
Working nine to five, answering phones  
But don't make me live for Friday nights  
Drinking eight pints and getting in fights  
Maybe I'll just fall in love  
That could solve it all  
Philosophers say that that's enough  
There surely must be more  
Love ain't the answer, nor is work  
The truth eludes me so much it hurts  
But I'm still having fun and I guess that's the key  
I'm a twentysomething and I'll keep being me," and he ended there, amid the applause of the crowd, until one voice rang out like a bull horn.

"What the fuck is all this racket? I can't get my beauty rest with you stupid shits yelling and screaming down here!" screamed a pug-faced dog of a girl.

Draco stopped playing and said in a deadly quiet voice, "Pansy, I really don't think that any amount of 'beauty rest' is going to make you any prettier. In fact, I think that you are going to look like a bitch forever, you pug faced brat."

Pansy scoffed and turned on her heal to go back into her bedroom.

XXXXXXX

The minute that her door was closed, she could hear the music and laughter start up again.

"Well, we'll see who gets the last laugh, Draco Malfoy. I wonder what your father would think of this, of you, who befriended Potter and made him feel at home in a place where he doesn't belong." Pansy walked over to her desk and pulled out a roll of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink.

"I'll get revenge on you if it's the last thing I do, Malfoy. You and Potter won't last very long under my watch."

XXXXXXXXX

Welp… I hope that you like it. Please read and review, it's my drug of choice!

Dreamer110


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